Because You're You
by A Shadow's Lament
Summary: Wise, poised, endlessly graceful... All the characteristics of a Goddess, not of the once reckless, impulsive Zelda he loves. Post SS, one-shot.


**Greetings, everyone. I can't say that I'm overly sure what inspired this. It was just an idea that I rolled with and that so shows with my lack of a creative title... Sigh. Oh well, I hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer - The Legend of Zelda does not belong to me in any way, shape or form. This is for entertainment purposes.**

**The cover image belongs to LadyShieru and is called "Zelink - Our Destiny" it can be found on Deviantart.**

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He sighs, his hand running through his hair as a smile - painfully forced- paints his face. He can only hope it looks sincere, that his internal thoughts do not show as she turns.

"Did you see that, Link?" she turns towards him, her smile as radiant as he remembers, her bow still in hand. "A perfect bulls-eye."

"Brilliant as usual, Zelda." The response feels so fake, the false fabrication of praise deceitful to his own ears.

He watches as she reloads the bow, her stance as perfect as a professional. Her arm is taught, her posture strong, graceful even as she releases the arrow with a sharp twang.

And yet, though there is an admiration in his gaze, a frown adorns his lips.

Her movements are so practised, so effortless, he is almost led to believe that she had trained all her life. But she had not.

Not once had she ever held such an item, never has she felt the wood in her hand. She should not look so at ease as she pulls the string back, the white fletching resting atop her fingers.

Her head had always shook as the bow had been presented to her in Skyloft. Refusing to hold a weapon that could maim or potentially kill. She had attended knight school the same as he, but whilst he had been eager to learn the art of handling weapons, she had opted for gentler subjects. How to craft potions from the peculiar red flowers, the correct method to tend to a loftwing's injuries.

He hears the thwack of another arrow, its head embedded into an unsuspecting tree. Wondering why she despised weapons class when she has artfully mastered the bow in a matter of minutes.

There is a curious note to his voice, barely hidden confusion lingering beneath as he asks how she does it.

Blonde hair swishes as she shrugs, her head tilted as she smiles, "It feels…right, to have it in my hands."

He nods; he had felt that too. To be so familiar with an item he had never before seen. The Hero's soul slumbers within him, his expertise and unfathomable skill now his own, lending him versatility and manoeuvres that should have taken years to complete.

And though Zelda does not have the ancient soul of a Hero within her, he is willing to bet that a Goddess is just as well versed in weaponry.

He cannot help the heaviness that sweeps over him as he looks to the golden haired girl.

Her smile is still as bright as the morning sun, her laugh as carefree as a summer breeze, but there are elements to her now that had not been present before.

Noticing how elegant her steps are, as though she floats across the ground. Hearing her soft humming that is as beautiful as her sacred lyre.

They have all changed, but he cannot be sure that it he is all that welcome to it.

It is her eyes that trouble him most. The bird-like curiosity now replaced by an ageless wisdom. The vibrant youth darkened by silent tribulations - a burden from all that Hylia had seen and done.

And though on the outside, she still resembles his Zelda, is it her he sees or the white Goddess?

He wants the girl who hadn't thought twice before diving into the waterfall pool, more concerned with trying to get him to join her than how soaked her clothes had become. Who would sneak out to the top of the academy to sit and watch the stars, cuddled into his side. Neither thinking about the prefects who roamed only a few steps away.

Not a goddess who would consider the possible what-ifs before doing anything brash. Weight up all alternate outcomes before giving her verdict on an idea.

He misses his reckless Zelda, who lived for the moment and worried about the repercussions later.

Even now, she had warned all the Kiwis that they were target-practising before she even went to get her bow, ensured that there were no insects - all of which she could name expertly - that may have been trodden on with their movements.

"Link, shall we head back now? It's getting darker."

His eyes close as an inaudible sigh passes through his lips. Zelda would never have been worried about the sunset. And now, they were heading back their shelter before the sun had even gone down…

"Sure Zelda, let me get packed up."

They walk, side by side to the small camp they call home. It is a shabby shack with separate rooms for the both of them and a small living space for their meals. Currently, large leaves serve as a roof, but it enough to protect them from the droplets of water that falls from the sky. A strange phenomenon that is unheard of in Skyloft, but something that Zelda easily addresses as 'rain'.

The tension he radiates is almost palpable. His fingers drumming nervously against his thigh as he tries to think of something to speak about. Would he sound smart enough? Would she look down upon his attempts at humour? Chastise him for his simple language?

They have known each other since childhood and yet he feels as though they are strangers. Simply strung together by the threads that Hylia had weaved.

He is reminded of the time he gave flowers to her. His ten year old self had blushed as his hand had stuck the flowers out before her, awaiting some harsh remark of him being silly or embarrassing her. Both just as surprised when she had pulled him in for a hug, his smile equally as large as hers.

He wont dare present her flowers now, unknowing if Zelda will embrace him for it, or Hylia will utter a simple thank-you out of common curtsey.

"You're awfully quiet. Is something the matter?" she inquires. So perfectly polite, so perfectly eloquent. He misses her old, "What's up with you, huh?"

"I'm just tired is all," he blatantly lies. Adding a small yawn to keep up the ruse.

"Oh, really?" she remarks, and he can hear the disbelief thick in her voice. She stops, turning to face him with her hands on hips, her eyes searching his own. She looks so much like his old Zelda it hurts.

"You look like you've been dumped into a pile of crappy-ness. What's bugging you?"

He has to smile. This is the Zelda he know and loves, the one who doesn't allow him to escape her scrutiny easily .

"I'm tire-"

"Tired. Right." Her bright blue eyes roll as her head shakes. "I don't believe you. You either tell me what's wrong or I beat it out of you," she shrugs, "your pick."

His smile only gets larger, watching her tap her foot impatiently. She may harness the soul of high and mighty Goddess, but deep down, she's still his Zelda.

A girl who has the weight of a past life upon her shoulders, holds more wisdom that he can even begin to comprehend and is far smarter than he has a hope of being. But she's also still the girl he can tell anything to as she always knows the right thing to say, and who knows how to bolster his mood by making him laugh when feeling down,

And she's still the girl he's been in love with since they were seven and she punched Groose in the face whilst scolding him for not fighting back.

And that simple fact is enough to make him smile. Not caring that she looks at him oddly, tilting her head in that adorable way.

He pulls her into his arms, laughing as her hair tickles his face.

"What's gotten into you? I thought you were tired?" she asks as she moves back to see his face.

"I am," he answers. He's been lugging materials back and forth all day for their new home in Faron woods before she requested they go shooting. Dragging logs across the coppice is not exactly light work.

"Then why the sudden energy boost?" she's suspicious, that much he can tell, but her tone is light-hearted.

He laughs, easier than what he's done in days. "Because you're you."

Her eyebrows raise, clearly questioning him, but smiling all the same. "And oddly enough, I knew that."

She reaches up on her toes and her lips press against his cheek. A smile rises on his mouth as he acknowledges the blush lightly dusting her skin. To know she can still become flustered at the simplest of gestures is undoubtedly reassuring.

She may be part Goddess, and know more about the Surface than he'll ever know. But even with that, he knows one thing, and that one thing is the most important to him.

She'll always be his Zelda.

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**Thank you for reading. All reviews are greatly appreciated.**


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